Chapter 185 The Firestarter’s n
It wasn’t just dinner. It was a warzone banquet.
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Everyone dug in together, wolfing down everyst bite until the bottom of the pot was scraped clean. And still–they weren’t satisfied.
It was absolutely, freaking incredible–the best thing they’d eaten in a long time.
“Got any more?” Theron asked, ncing up.
Lucas turned to Theresa.
“Double rate,” she said simply.
“Alright.”
With that, Theresa casually tossed out a few more pre–prepared meal kits, along with two whole five–pack instant noodles. They added some water to the same pot, dumped in the noodles, and stirred in the sauces and meats. Soon enough, steam billowed once again, and the second round of dinner was just as hearty. Atst, they were full.
Lucas waited until the men had finished before he spoke. “Where are you based now?”
“In the east,” Theron replied. “We established Ember Camp.”
“I think I picked up your signal once,” Lucas said, narrowing his eyes in thought.
“We were broadcasting. Butter, we ran out of power. Not even a radio would turn on, so we stopped.”
“How many people in your camp?”
“A little over 3,000. You?”
“Kl Camp has over 5,000 now.”
At that, Theron’s gaze sharpened. “You have enough food for that many?”
Lucas didn’t answer directly. “We’re managing–for now.”
“My camp’s in a terrible spot. Supplies are almost nonexistent,” Theron said, frowning. “Lucas, work with me.”
“What’s your n?”
“Take the city.” Theron’s amber eyes lit up with fire.
“I infiltrated Ansford today. There’s a huge cache of supplies still sitting in the urban centers. If we can take just <i>one </i>city, we’ll never have to worry about food again. And as for zombies? There’s no such thing as
defense. The only path forward is attack. Kill more, live longer. The more we clear, the better our chances!”
He looked at Lucas, eyes fierce and unblinking.
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Chapter 185 The Firestarter’s n
In his past life. Theron had always been obsessed with retaking cities, but no one ever joined him. In all the eastern territories, he’d been the only madman pushing forward. But his madness had a reason- Ember Camp had almost nothing. They couldn’t afford to survive passively. Killing zombies was their only option.
And besides, Theron wasn’t just any soldier–he was a born fighter. However, most camps hunkered down and tried to survive. No one would dare gamble on something as insane as urban warfare.
But this life was different. Lucas was still alive. And Theresa… she wasn’t who she used to be<i>, </i>either.
Just then, a clear, crisp voice cut through the silence.
“Go on. I want to hear more about your n.” Theresa looked across the fire at Theron, curiosity lighting her face.
Theron turned to her, those tiger–like eyes narrowing slightly. Then, he leaned toward Lucas and asked quietly, “She your woman?”
“No,” Lucas said quickly. “Don’t get the wrong idea. That’s Theresa Hall, administrator of zing Sun Camp. She’s… strong.”
Theron’s eyes flickered with surprise. If Lucas said she was strong, she must be something else. He stood, tall and imposing, and walked over to Theresa. Extending a hand, he said, “Theron Yorke, Ember Camp.”
Theresa stood to meet him. “Theresa Hall, zing Sun Camp.”
Their palms met, and the moment their hands touched, Theresa thought she’d grabbed a b of burning rock. The power surging through Theron’s grip was unrelenting–pure heat and strength wrapped in muscle and momentum. It radiated blood, sweat, and male aggression. In short, he was very much a man.
Theron, too, was surprised. He hadn’t expected that much force in such a small hand. When their grips locked, he felt it immediately–this wasn’t just some title–holder. She had real power. The strength in her palm shed with his in a silent collision. And she wasn’t losing.
“Strong indeed,” Theron acknowledged.
“Let’s hear your n,” Theresa said as she released his hand and sat back down.
“When the apocalypse hit, most of humanity was wiped out. Survivors make up less than one percent. But the cities are still full of materials and supplies–enough to sustain those of us left for hundreds of years. If we can take a city, food won’t be humanity’s greatest crisis anymore. The real threat is the zombies. We can’t coexist. They have to die<i>–</i><i>all </i>of them. That’s the only way we get peace.”
Theresa nodded. She agreedpletely. Resources shouldn’t be the biggest threat in the apocalypse.
The wealth of the old world was enormous. Capture just one central depot, and it could feed survivors for years. And all the good stuff–the real bulk of it–was still inside the cities.
“But you realize,” she said, “the cities are crawling with zombies. And there aren’t enough of us.”
Theron met her gaze without flinching. “Have you noticed they’re evolving?”
Theresa’s eyes narrowed.
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Chapter 185 The Firestarter’s n
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Turning to Lucas, Theron observed, “You’ve noticed too, haven’t you? Zombies. They’re changing.”